


Ache Like I Ache

by oonaseckar



Category: Dollhouse, X-Men (Comicverse), X-Men (Movieverse), X-Men - All Media Types
Genre: Dolls, F/M, FBI agent Erik Lehnsherr, Gen, Impersonation, M/M, Multi
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-03-09
Updated: 2020-03-14
Packaged: 2021-03-01 05:01:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 10
Words: 3,038
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23079796
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/oonaseckar/pseuds/oonaseckar
Summary: Charles Xavier is missing, and despite him being a rich, white, male college student, no-one seems to care.  Not the police, not the press, not his family.No-one except his friend Raven.And FBI agent Erik Lehnsherr.And then there's all these rumors about the Dollhouse...
Relationships: Erik Lehnsherr/Charles Xavier, Raven | Mystique & Charles Xavier
Kudos: 16





	1. love shouldn't make a beggar of one

**Author's Note:**

> Work title is from 'Doll Parts' by Hole.  
> Chapter title is from Valley of the Dolls, Jacqueline Susann.

'Tell me about him,' Erik said. 'If you wouldn't mind, Miss Darkholme.'

She looked at his desk, and flicked a hand at it, so slightly, as if she could barely push herself to move. Her face was limp, bitter. 'You have the file, Agent Lehnsherr. What else is there you need to know?'

He reached across and picked it up, the file she'd indicated. Took a look at the name on top. 'More than there'll be in here,' he told her. 'Tell me about Charles Xavier.'

'My brother has been missing for eighteen months, Agent Lehnsherr.' It was no answer, and her voice was short, hard. 'No-one cares, no-one's listening. His family don't want to know.'

' _His_ family?' Erik queried.

'We... adopted each other, in college,' Miss Darkholme said. 'I have no family. He may as well not have. Now we don't even have each other. His family fabricated evidence of criminal activity against him. And now he's in the Dollhouse. If we didn't have bad luck we'd have no luck at all, you might say.'

Erik forced a laugh. It wasn't as if every federal agent didn't hear a similar story about the Dollhouse at least once a week. It was one of the classics. Disbelief was commonplace. Raven Darkholme must be well-used to it.

It was a wonder she'd managed to get as far as being brought in for an interview: Az had tipped him off that favors had been called in, strings pulled to make it happen.

Raven Darkholme had impressively powerful friends, or perhaps it was her enemies who were making things happen. And if he didn't have his own little investigation going on on the side, he'd have classified her as a harmless tinfoil-hat nutjob.


	2. doll freaking house

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Raven's aching, alright.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter title from Dollhouse.

'Charles is my brother,' Miss Darkholme says. 'I mean, not really. But pretty much.' She gasps for breath and sucks down the coffee he's fetched her. Tears are clearly not far off.

She allows herself a juddering breath or two, before continuing. 'My first semester at college was horrible.' It seems a non sequitur, but there's no such thing in a subject interview. 'I mean,' she explains, 'I don't have any family. Didn't have. I was so broke it was scary, the first weeks. I kept thinking I'd have to drop out. I made friends, but frankly they were pretty horrible. I didn't know how to get rid of them and find new people. Then I ran into Charles at a mutant pride mixer.'

The long exhale says everything about what that meeting was, what it did for her. She goes on anyway, lifting her head to meet Erik's eyes. 'He's the only family I have. And he has people he's biologically related to, and a ton of friends. But I'm the only family he has. The only one who'll never give up, and never forget him. Never go through a day without feeling the hole in it where he should be.' She grips her fingers together, and he sees how the nails are chewed down, red and ugly. 'Please, I can't find anyone to take me seriously. He's been gone for so long, and I can't feel him any more in my mind. No-one will let me talk about the Dollhouse. Will you at least try to find my brother for me?'


	3. she just got caught up with the wrong people

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Raven's determined to find her brother. And if she can just make him understand, then Agent Lehnsherr will be, too.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter title is from Dollhouse.

She still could be a nut. Most people making Dollhouse allegations were. But he looked into her chocolate-box pretty face, and her eyes were sane and cold. None of the manic gleam of the deluded zealot.

So. She was neither a nut, nor harmless, as far as he was concerned. Instead, a personal threat, to be assessed, divested of useful information and sent on her way, frustrated.

Erik cleared his throat. He didn't like lying to a concerned family member. But he had compelling reasons. 'Miss Darkholme. I regret having to take over from my partner in dealing with your appointment. But I can assure you that he has examined your case, and your brother's file, extensively. And he would say to you the same thing that I am saying to you. Your adoptive brother has been working abroad for a charitable trust for two years. Your – or his – family, are satisfied that he is in good health and doing good work. He is in intermittent contact with them.'

Easy enough to fake, for a ridiculously rich and influential family, dealing decisively with a bad penny they wanted disposed of, he thought. But as soon as she was gone, he'd be milking that file dry for leads. 'The bureau are satisfied that no criminal infractions have occurred in relation to him. And yet you persist in your allegations. May I ask you why?'

Miss Darkholme was curiously undisturbed. She reached into the deep pocket of her blazer, took out a tablet, tinkered with it and shoved it across to him. The clip she'd set going was already seconds into play.

The video clip was hypnotizing. Erik stared, stilled, reached out a hand to the screen and pulled it back. The self-consciousness of the kid, the way he tried to act natural while being filmed by his friends. Just the way he flipped his too-long brown hair out of his face, as he rolled bluest eyes and stifled laughter. It was impossible to pull his glued eyes away. Quite impossible.


	4. God save me from idealists

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Erik takes a look at the lost college kid Miss Darkholme wants him to go looking for.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter title is Jim Butcher.

Erik knew his own weaknesses perfectly well, and always copped to them, at least to himself . Really he knew, he knew fine well. Innocent idealism, untainted by soured experience... He should be smarter than still to be falling for that old schtick.

'I'd like to be a mad raging supervillain –- maybe with a cape?' the kid rambled, eyes a living blazing dare. 'A cape, right, and an island principality and a bunch of minions to do my bidding, what do you mean, Dar, that's a perfectly reasonable ambition--'

There was a squawk, unintelligible, from behind the camera, and this kid curled over himself and laughed. 'All right then, okay, we're graduating, college is over, we're let loose on an unsuspecting world, what do I want to do with my life?' His pretty face – not as delicate as at first impression, the nose proud and large, the brow and cheekbones broadly brushed –- sobered and cleared. His smile was honest. 'I'd like to make a difference, where I can do that best. To make things better for all mutants. And for regular humans too. Swear to God, Dar, if you hand me a coke bottle there's a danger I'll start singing.' He ducked at some presumed gesture. 'No, for real.'

Erik had never seen a blue like that, like those eyes, arresting and pure. Oh, except the once, of course. 'Like she used to say. We can unite, we can re-make the world--'

The clip cut off suddenly, and Erik turned to the girl beside him at the abrupt cessation. Her eyes flicked to his and then she glanced down, closing them. It looked like pain, or fatigue. 'That's it. The rest of the file's corrupted. I have tech friends, they've tried to recover it, but... that's it.'


	5. my duty to myself

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Raven opens her heart to FBI Agent Lehnsherr, trusting in his capacity to find her brother.
> 
> But Erik isn't telling her everything.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter title is Henrik Ibsen, 'A Doll's House'.

Erik couldn't speak for a moment. He tried to control himself: mustn't give anything away to her, mustn't, _mustn't_. Though he wanted to run, to vomit, maybe scream. Logical process, he struggled and reached for it. There was some sensible next thing to say.

'Your brother? What does this tell me, Miss Darkholme?' He could hear the rawness of his voice, feel his hands tremble. Way to dissemble, Lehnsherr. Nice poise.

Darkholme's pretty eyes – everything about her pretty, lush – were on fire. 'We mutants, Agent. You hear that? That was before the demo he was arrested at. Later, he talked about _we mutants._ The great family of the X-gene, about solidarity without stinting, brotherhood. About what his own mutation could contribute.'

Erik felt... drunk, lost. He'd missed something. 'The file... Miss Darkholme, according to my partner, your brother is human. He has no mutated powers.'

She smiled slightly, tightly. 'That's the official line. It was useful. We thought it would be useful, later. An inside man, a sleeper. Just in case. Charles _was_ a mutant, Agent Lehnsherr. A mutant like you... and like me.' There was a vivid green-blue ripple before his eyes, but it was so fast he couldn't process it, a film blip where the director discloses without disclosing. 'He was a telepath.'

Erik stumbled to grab at the one thing that he could grasp and understand. 'Even if you were right, that invalidates your claim, Miss Darkholme. Like the number of times you call Candyman, like the hook on the car-door handle lost on the highway, some things everyone knows. The Dollhouse... say, if they existed... don't take telepaths. They love mutants... but they won't suffer a telepath to live, you might say.' He breathed a little easier. Shut off all thought, argue it out, send her away. Don't _think_ , Lehnsherr, don't think.


	6. which is right -- society or I

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> And now Erik knows more than he wanted to know.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter title is Henrik Ibsen, 'A Doll's House'.

Her laugh was lovely. 'Not one they know about. Charles was a late bloomer: fortunately, he manifested away at boarding school, and his friends knew how to keep a secret. His family were in the dark: they remained so. Being gay was quite enough social taboo in their eyes. He never registered.' Her eyes flashed gold: she clearly knew she'd just disclosed a prosecutable offence. 'And somehow he made it through the Dollhouse preliminary checks, Agent. Because for the past eighteen months, he's been able to disable whatever mind-control juju they have, and get through to me now and then – mind to mind – and tell me. From _inside_ the Dollhouse, Agent.'

She leaned forward, little face twisted up angrily. 'Cards on the table, Lehnsherr: I _know_ you're a mutant. The Bureau makes a point of disclosure, of fulfilling its mandated quotas and supporting integration. Does it help much? We're tolerated, barely legal you might say, hated: but one place _loves_ us. The Dollhouse loves itself some mutant ass, for the highest bidder: it's so very profitable. Now: are you going to do something about it?'

There was spittle at the corner of her mouth: the rage in her face and voice faded to hopelessness. She clearly expected rejection, disbelief, and a quick escort out of his office. He forced himself to breathe, as he reached out, put his own hand warm and large over her small one.

She jumped, startled, but her focus was still clear. 'Lehnsherr? You're going to help me go get my brother?'

'Yes. Between you, and me. Don't _shout_.'

A little wary now. 'Why?'


	7. some people that one loves

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Erik's been economical with the truth: lying by omission.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter title is Henrik Ibsen: 'A Doll's House'.

Might have been a sob, might have been a laugh. 'I've met your brother before, Miss Darkholme. Or a version of him. When I knew him he was going by Francis Thibault. He was already a Doll.'

It seemed more diplomatic, less humiliating than saying he'd _fucked_ Francis Thibault... Charles Xavier, it seemed. Fucked a Doll, a sex aid in a flesh container. Wrestled with him in humid tacky tangled sheets, pushed him up against a shower wall and had him, been absolutely a fool for him when he had so much more pressing demands on his time and attention. They could talk about that later. Or preferably, not at all, and never.


	8. no man would sacrifice his honor for the one he loves

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> An aside, from Charles. Or what there is that's left of him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter title is Henrik Ibsen, 'A Doll's House'.
> 
> Hank here is, btw, Topher. Well, a little less corrupted, but in essence... Topher.

_Hank is clever, but not as clever as Charles. Charles will find his way out of the maze: he's promised himself, and he's rather particular about sticking to his word. It's not as if there's much new about his situation: he was a sleeper, as a closeted mutant, after all. And now, as a Doll._

_Erik, now Erik is an idealist (not that it's relevant.) But Charles is a pragmatist –- nice, and good, and **ruthless** when a job needs doing. Idealists are angry. Cynics are gentle and lovely and affectionate –- they can, after all, afford to be. Charles has always done a little mind-tweaking where necessary. As little as possible -- but he's still done it. _

_Really, he's never had any innocence to be despoiled._

_Charles is always there, and never there. Charles doesn't exist._

_He watches the things he does, and the things they make him do. The spot he watches from is up in some lonely watchtower in his mind: he is omniscient, and helpless. He's the observer and narrator in his own drama, but never an actor. Often he wonders if they know, that he knows, that he sees. He wonders if it's the same for the others, but he doubts it. It seems unlikely. It must be different for a telepath._

_Being turned into an object, a puppet on a string for good customers to play with. Being made into a **doll**._


	9. when you've sold yourself once for the sake of others

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Erik has his own plans to think of regarding the Dollhouse. Not plans with official approval, mind you.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter title is Henrik Ibsen, 'A Doll's House'.

Of course, in spite of the video, Erik has never seen Charles Xavier before in his life. What he's seen is _Francis_.

His partner Janos doesn't want to know, and his supervisor, Az, is permissive but uninterested. Officially, the case is on the books as part of wider investigations, but low-priority. Missing person, adult, no evidence of foul play or trafficking. It's only of barely tangential relevance or interest because of Miss Darkholme's persistent ranting about the Dollhouse, and Xavier's history of mutant rights activism.

In the morning he does try to get Az to listen, as he sweeps past Erik's desk in search of simple carbohydrates, caffeine, and someone more connected to talk to. He's not sure even why. But he gets about what he expects. 'There is no case, Lehnsherr. The man's parents are not even worried: he has a history of aberrant and impulsive behavior and is an unsatisfactory offshoot of a distinguished clan. The mother fully expects him to turn up in a year or eighteen months, married to an underwear model or in Hare Krishna garb. I do not think she would care if he just stayed missing. Without the history of suspect activism, we wouldn't even have acknowledged the case. Lehnsherr, seriously.' Az's fleshy smile is civil, and uncaring. 'Don't you have any _real_ cases?'

Erik runs a hand through his hair, would be quite happy to drop this. Somehow he can't. He thinks of Raven Darkholme, who almost melted into her own tears yesterday. He thinks of the sweet ingenuous smile of her self-appointed brother, who got in too deep and never came home. 'About the Dollhouse thing...'

Az smacks his lips and laughs. 'You've been speaking to Miss Darkholme! She's a monomaniac who won't let go, Erik. Her allegations shouldn't even be in the file, it's unprofessional. If there wasn't someone higher in this place who wants it all on record, we'd be able to ignore all that robot sex-worker crap.'

Az folds his arms and sighs, visibly allowing Erik a minute or two's grace and attention. _Damn good_ of him. 'What's worth paying attention to is all the mutant hysteria Xavier was mixed up in, Erik. I hope you read that file closely. That last incident at the research center before he disappeared, it could have been _very_ serious. Miss Darkholme herself was lucky no-one was seriously hurt: and that the Xaviers decided to lend her their money and influence to get the charges downgraded.' Az taps Erik on the arm, leans in a little too close. 'Xavier was getting mixed up with very undesirable elements: maybe he saw sense and just decided it was time to disappear for a while. There is no case here, Erik. Move on. Just because the kid's a mutant like you, doesn't mean you have a damn thing in common with him. And it doesn't mean there's someone who needs saving.'

Erik watches him weave away around desks and chairs, broad brick-red form graceful in a smooth bespoke suit. It isn't smart to snap after him, 'I'm not the only mutant around here, Az. But maybe I'm the only one who knows assimilation and camouflage isn't the answer, when we're still accounted about ninety per cent of a full citizen. Sometimes you have to stand and fight. Maybe someone didn't like that about Xavier. We could have that in common.'

Az pauses, turns, gives him a brief silent look. He is fairly clearly considering a few responses, but shrugs and turns back, moves on. The fire in his eyes tells Erik he's probably made a mistake. Blending into the background has never been an option for the other mutant: maybe that's the reason he's establishment to the bone.


	10. when I lost you

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Raven is persistent. You gotta give her that.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter title is 'A Doll's House'.

"I'm sorry."

He's arranged to meet Ms Darkholme again, trying to put an end to it. 'There's nothing I can do for you.' He feels badly for her. He does. He'd like to move on and get this mess out of his head. 'We have no leads and this isn't strictly our business anyway. It's only the last incident before your friend's disappearance that had you crossing our radar in any case. Your friend may be enjoying the sunshine in South America, swimming the straits of Gibraltar... Miss Darkholme, I suggest you cease worrying about what's not under your control.'

'As a federal agent you fucking suck,' she says, flat and provocative in the flatness. Instantly Erik is alert: she's not a threat, but he can recognize moments when vital information is forthcoming. 'You've failed to ask me two crucial questions that would further your investigation. You should be ashamed.'

She's trying to make him angry, but not hard enough. He's still feeling sorry for her. 'Ms Darkholme, there is no investigation. Missing persons, without foul play or motive indicated, are not the concern of the bureau. Not except insofar as any information that turns up assists the wider concerns of the bureau-'

Face twisted, marring her fair prettiness, she interrupts. 'I'm telling you anyway. First, you should ask me why I wasn't prosecuted after the research center incident. And then you should ask me why I'm fixated with the Dollhouse. Why I know Charles is there.' Her eyes burn: they compel his compliance. If only because he feels worse for her than ever. This kid can't let go: can't let the dead be dead, the lost be lost. He knows how that feels.

So he drinks cold coffee, in the failing, shabby coffeehouse they're settled in, and gives her what she needs to hear.


End file.
